Shelter Me
by OhLollyLollyLollyLollipop
Summary: He didn't understand. Someone as strong as her couldn't be hurt this way. Yet there she was, curled in St. Mungo's, nearly unconscious. How had this happened? He would make them pay. Post-Hogwarts, Draco-Hermione.
1. Prologue

_AU: So, I'm attempting to get a few stories out this summer before I'm back off to University. This story is set Post-Hogwarts, after the war is fought. I'm tired of hearing about the "final battle" that could never live up to Rowling's. This story will be a Draco and Hermione pairing, and if you don't like it, don't read it. Also, there will be dark themes, including abuse. I've yet to decide the lengths of it. But again, if you don't like it, don't read it. I hope you enjoy it! And yes, the prologue is very short. I often enjoy the tease of a tiny prologue. I promise more chapters will come quickly._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters involved within the series._

He had not expected this. Remus Lupin was scared.

It was now two years after the final battle, and he could honestly say he hadn't felt fear like this since those days. He now worked within the ministry, working on acts for the equal treatment of werewolves. His office often corresponded with the office in charge of the welfare of magical creatures, yet never face-to-face.

He was well aware that Hermione Granger had risen among the ranks within the office, campaigning for the welfare of house elves. Today, he'd been restless, and decided to go up the floors to her office directly and deliver his message. When he arrived, it was the smell of her that first shot fear through him.

She smelled… weak. Hermione, weak? The thought was preposterous. Without her research into the horcruxes and her constant moral support throughout the dark times, the war never would've been won. Hermione was anything but weak. So why, why did her scent reek of weakness?

He stood in the doorway, staring at the back of her head, trying to decipher all that he could before he announced his presence. Shaking his head, he stepped forward and placed a hand on the shoulder of his friend. She jumped and spun her chair around, her eyes wide with shock.

Remus felt his mind reel once more as a wave of her scent washed over him. She was afraid. Her scent of weakness was now laced with fear. Hermione Granger not only feared very little, but of all the things to fear, why was it him?

He had not expected this. Remus Lupin was scared.

Scared for her.


	2. Fine

**AN: Told you I'd get chapters out quickly! Only one thing to say here, and that's that I often put all of the characters' thoughts within italics. This helps reduce confusion for me, perhaps it will for others as well. Another way to tell is that all thoughts have a single ' while speaking have ". With that said, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters involved within the series.**

She sat at her desk, quill poised motionlessly over a blank sheet of parchment. She was thoroughly frustrated with herself.

'_It shouldn't matter how I feel_,' she reminded herself.

'_Work doesn't stop just because it feels like my heart is about to_.' She sighed and leaned back in her chair, placing the quill down. Reaching up, she gathered her hair and tied it in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. A sharp pang in her side as she reached reminded her of last night once more.

'_As if I'd forgotten already_,' she thought bitterly. Her hand resting tentatively on her side, she sat staring at the wall in front of her. How had things gotten this way? She felt awful. She barely ate anymore, her weight loss was evidence enough of that. Most days, however, she didn't know whether to blame the dizziness on her empty stomach or on her injuries.

'_Probably a combination of the two_,' she mused. Suddenly, a hand touched her shoulder. Fear overwhelmed her as she spun her chair around, unsure of how he had come to be here.

'_He never comes to my work! What've I done now?!_' She was on the verge on panic when her eyes rested on a friendly, familiar, very worried face. Clutching a hand to her heart, she giggled nervously.

"Remus! I wasn't expecting you! Goodness, you frightened me…" He remained silent for a few moments, studying her with his eyes. Finally, he managed to speak.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" She was nervous now. Did he know? Remus scratched his head nervously, not wanting to sound strange.

"Well, er, your scent just smells a bit different today."

'_He knows. He has to. Damn it all_.'

"What's different?" She cocked her head to the side, attempting to look innocent and questioning. However, instead, a small gasp escaped her mouth as a look of pain registered within her eyes. She'd forgotten about the injury where her neck met her shoulder, and had successfully strained it.

Remus watched the emotions play across her face, trying to decide whether or not to speak on what exactly he had smelled on her. Then, as the pain flickered through her eyes, his mind was made. Something was wrong, and it was time to figure out what it was.

"You smell weak, Hermione. You haven't been eating, have you? And when I startled you, your scent was overwhelmingly afraid. You know that if something's wrong, you can always talk to me, right?" Her heart reached out to the concerned man before her, adoring the fatherly protectiveness and worry he was showing.

She wanted to tell him so badly. Find safety within those arms and never look back. Be taken away from here, given a new life, and never worry about being hurt like this again.

However, she reminded herself, this was her problem to deal with. She'd gotten herself caught up in it, and she refused to make it anyone's job to get her out of it. She couldn't risk them being hurt. No one deserved this.

'_At least, no one besides me_.'

"Thank you, but it is simply none of your business, Remus. I'm fine." With this, she stood, gathered her things, and walked towards the door. Pausing at the exit, she turned to face him once more. He simply stood there, watching her, his face concerned. Smiling as best as she could, she waved and said,

"Please, Remus, try not to worry so much. I'm fine." There it was again, that word. Fine. She was far from it, but this was the way things had to say. And as much as any girl would've known that 'fine' didn't mean anything good, she knew her old professor and her boys well enough to know that 'fine' really meant 'fine' to them.

She turned, and she was gone. Remus stood there for a few moments, contemplating his next course of action. Then, with his mind made, he returned to his office.


	3. Control

(A/N: I'm very sorry about how long it took me to update. I've been very sick and going through testing for cancer. It's finally been declared that I don't have it, but there are still numerous surgeries I need to go through to have the tumors removed. Don't be angry with me for taking so long! 

Like any author, I love reviews. So thank you to shizuka, my one reviewer so far for this story. Cookies for you! Nothing brightens an author's day like reviews.)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is still not mine.

Sitting down at his desk, Remus pulled out a bit of parchment and began penning a quick letter to Harry. At a time like this, he was unsure of who else to turn to. The trio had stayed tight through the times, Harry marrying Ginny and Hermione and Ron getting married.

If Hermione was in trouble, her boys needed to know. He had contemplated owling Ron, yet trusted in Harry's temperament a bit more than Ron's. He was worried of Ron's reaction and needed Harry's cool, calm reasoning to help him sort this out.

Quickly explaining as much of the situation as he could, Remus sealed the letter and handed it to his owl. With an affectionate pat on the head, he instructed the bird to take the letter directly to Harry and no one else. With that done, Remus leaned back in his chair and frowned. At this point there was not much else to do but wait.

Elsewhere, Hermione was in a hurry. She'd stayed late at work again and was worried of his reaction if dinner wasn't on the table when he arrived home. Flooing in, she glanced around herself nervously before stepping into the room. When no sound greeted her, she sighed in relief and quickly bustled to the kitchen. It seemed she had time to spare before **he** arrived.

Harry was out flying with Neville, Luna, Ron, and Ginny when Remus' owl arrived. Recognizing the owl, he quickly descended and greeted it, taking the letter and ruffling the bird fondly. The others continued the game as he read, not noticing the alarming change in his demeanor.

"Harry," the letter read,

"I have been noticing some changes in Hermione lately, and I've become a bit worried. Her scent smells weaker and much more afraid than I can ever recall it being… even worse than during the war. She is jumpy and little movements seem to cause her pain. I think something serious may be going on, and I wanted to alert you and Ron. She may need your help as friends, and Ron as her husband. I addressed this letter to you in the hopes that you could relay the message to Ron and keep him calm. Rash action at this point would be a mistake.

I hope you and Ginny are well and that this letter finds you all in good health. Please respond if/when you know anything.

Your loving friend,

Remus."

Harry gulped and turned to face his flying companions, dreading relaying this news. Ron's reaction was sure to be fiercely protective. Steeling himself, he shot a small red spark into the sky, signaling for them all to join him on the ground. Perhaps Ron would maintain his temper better with everyone to help him.

As they joined him, he watched their faces register his mood one-by-one. It was Ginny who spoke first,

"What's wrong, Harry?" Her voice was soft and careful as she walked to stand by his side. When he still didn't speak, she slipped her hand lightly into his. Looking gratefully down at her, Harry turned to face Ron, Neville and Luna.

"The post was from Remus. He's noticed some odd behaviors in Hermione, and is concerned that she might be in danger. Has anyone else noticed anything?"

"Perhaps she's infested with nargles? What sort of behaviors has she been exhibiting?"

Luna was the first to speak. Ron was turning red with anger, his fists clenched by his sides and his lips pressed tightly together.

"Remus said she smells weak and seems to be in pain. I'm sorry to say it, but the way he made it sound was like she's being hurt. Do you have any idea what this could be about, Ron?" Harry phrased the question as carefully as he could, noticing his friend's angry disposition. However, Ron was the only one who saw her on a regular basis. If he hadn't noticed anything, then no one would've.

Ron blinked, took a deep breath as though willing himself to be calm, and shook his head in a negative gesture. Nodding, Harry understood his friend's inability to speak on such a concerning matter.

"For now, I suppose we should each go to our own separate homes. Ron, make sure you keep an eye on her for us, mate. None of us want her hurting in any way. We'll stop by sometime soon and check in on her. Send her our love." Harry grasped Ron's shoulder briefly in a brotherly gesture, before turning and apparating away with Ginny. Neville walked to Ron, repeated Harry's gesture, and then he and Luna apparated away as well.

Left alone in the field, Ron opened his mouth and let out a strangled cry of fury. As he apparated away, the horrific noise still echoed through the trees.

She heard the telltale pop of apparition before she saw him. Spinning around quickly, she placed herself next to the table displaying a picture perfect dinner. She'd made it in time and was certain that everything was according to plan. However, when her husband walked in her with that menacing glare, she knew something had gone horribly wrong. Shutting her eyes tightly and bracing herself, she was thrown backwards by the force of his blow to her stomach.

Ron Weasley stood towering over his weak, pathetic wife, watching her cough and gasp for breath. She'd pay for giving herself away. She was his to do with as he pleased, and no one was going to change that. For once, he was in control.

(A/N: I feel awful after writing this. I promise Draco comes in soon, just had to get the story properly set up first. Sorry to all the Ron lovers!)


	4. Safe

A/N: I know, I know, I'm late again. Not even going to make excuses about finals and sickness because chances are, the readers are too eager for the chapter and are mad enough to peg me with rotten food anyways. xP Enjoy!

Thanks to my reviewers: LDeetz, ynowofalltimes, Emily, Miss Taxidermy, and pottergurl1289. Reviews make authors smile. ^.^

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is still not mine.

When she woke up everything felt wrong. Her eyelids were heavy and refused to lift, and her body wouldn't move. In a daze, she pressed backwards through her memory trying to recall what had happened and where she could be. A flash of Ron towering over her, raining blow after blow upon her shone brightly in her mind. Oh. She'd been knocked unconscious again. So she was probably on the floor.

'_I wonder what I did to deserve it this time. I must've been positively awful to earn such a beating. I hope I can still earn his forgiveness.'_

Slowly she began to register that there were voices around her and she eagerly trained her hearing on trying to understand what they were saying. Strange that there would be people in her home…

"How are you holding up, mate? I can't believe we let you return home alone and find her like this, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know. It's okay." That voice. '_Ron! And that was Harry… Just what is going on here? Harry knows about my injuries?'_

"We'll figure out who has been hurting her. Must be a co-worker or friend if they knew how to find her at home. Don't worry, we'll keep her safe."

"You think she's been bringing her co-workers home? Reassuring, mate." Ron's voice was cold and sarcastic. '_He wants Harry to think I'm cheating on him – oh, Harry, don't believe him…'_

"You know you're the only man in her life, don't make this any harder on her than it has been. You don't know what she's been forced into or how she's been hurt. As her husband, you need to support her and help her through this." '_Or as my husband he can be responsible for my punishment and keeping me in line… he only hurts me because I disobey after all. If Ginny disobeyed, I'm sure Harry would keep her in line too.'_

Even as she reassured herself, she knew the words were all wrong. Harry would never hurt Ginny. Hermione was in a completely illogical and terrifying situation, and there was no way out. She was relieved when she heard Harry offer to buy Ron a firewhiskey and their footsteps slowly faded into the distance.

Now it was time to work on getting more information. Where was she? How badly was she injured? Gathering her energy, she began focusing on opening her eyes. Being able to see was a vital first step. Slowly her eyelids fluttered and then gradually slid open under her insistence.

No – she couldn't really be in St. Mungo's… He'd never gone this far before. As reality slowly hit her, desperation consumed her and tears slipped down her cheeks. If he kept this up, he'd kill her. Did she really deserve death?

* * *

In the lobby, Draco Malfoy was leaning casually over the nurse's desk. He was here for his routine visit to his mother in the permanent ward, yet he often stopped to charm the nurse for any new gossip of patients. Smirking, he rested on one elbow and ran his hands through his white-blonde hair. Resting his gaze directly upon her, he watched as her face flushed with pleasure. Too easy.

"Got anything for me, Helen?" She giggled and flipped through the charts, glancing obviously around her to see if anyone could hear her. She was not the brightest girl around, but if she was, she'd never cave and give him the gossip. He could be patient, he supposed. Putting on his best interested face, he leaned closer to her and whispered to her.

"I see you have something good for me this week. Do tell." That was all the push she needed and she eagerly burst with information.

"Remember that war hero, Hermione Granger? The girl who was friends with Harry Potter and married his best friend Ron Weasley? She's hear receiving extensive care from some sort of mysterious attack… it's all very hush hush and all of Mungo's is in a tizzy about her. Apparently she barely survived!"

He carefully kept his expression calm and unaffected, but inside his mind was reeling. Impossible. This definitely warranted further investigation. It was preposterous that the golden girl could be hurt so severely and no one have any explanation. Why hadn't she been protected? Time to continue charming.

"Well now, that is news. I bet someone as reliable as you knows which room she's in as well. I'd like to check in on her, we attended school together."

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, that'd be inappropriate, she can't have visitors yet except her husband or Harry Potter…" He seethed silently. No visitors, yet Potter was allowed. No surprise there.

"Helen, just between you and me… Hermione and I were close at school, secretly…" His tone of voice was suggestive and his statement entirely false, but from the way Helen's mouth dropped he knew it had worked. If anything would work on a ditzy witch, it's an unfinished love affair. He quickly got the rest of the information from her and parted with a smirk and sauntered away.

Arriving at the doorway, he paused for a moment before entering. He'd switched sides before the end of the war under the council of his godfather, Severus. Yet no one had known until after Severus was killed and it was revealed within his memories that Draco had been spying as well, working on turning the other Slytherins against the cause. After all he'd done, Hermione had been the only one to fully accept him.

The wizarding world had forgiven him, of course, but only she had truly accepted him. They'd even had coffee a few times. What had he missed? He had barely seen her or spoken to her since her marriage, something he wasn't surprised or offended by… much. She was just busy obviously. Yet now, he finds out she was a target. What if he would've been able to prevent the attack just by remaining a part of her life? Obviously the weasel didn't protect her. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped forward into the room.

He quickly reminded himself to breathe as the sight of her hit him full force. He didn't understand. Someone as strong as her couldn't be hurt this way. Yet there she was, curled in St. Mungo's, nearly unconscious. How had this happened? He would make them pay. Her slender form lay motionless on the bed, her skin glowing in the light from the window. As he stepped closer he noticed her cheeks were streaked with tears and he frowned slightly.

Reaching a hand out slowly, he wiped away the wetness from her cheek. Immediately, her eyes snapped open and fixed on his, gluing him to the spot. She was terrified and he couldn't look away or move his hand. More tears slipped from her eyes and as one hit his finger, he twitched and moved his hand to cup her cheek, soothing her. In as gentle a voice as he could manage, he softly spoke.

"Hermione? It's all right. You're safe."

Safe. The word echoed in her brain as she registered what was happening. The man touching her was not Ron, and this man was not here to hurt her. As the fear receded and her vision cleared, she began to comprehend his identity. Draco. Draco Malfoy was here. She really was safe. With a small gasp, she blinked rapidly to confirm that he was there and began to cry once more.

'_Draco…'_

A/N: I promise to try and not take so long to update next time. At least Draco is here now! More to come about their brief friendship and such. Please review!


	5. Memories

[A/N: I know it has been a long time, thank you to all of you who have stuck with me! Work and school have got me pretty busy this semester. The only way I had the time to write this is because I'm currently in bed with the flu. Hope you enjoy it!

Thanks to the reviewers: LadyBookworm80, ayoAOx, MISS'Hannah-MarieHale'BOOKWORM, MrsEdwardCullen13, Miss Taxidermy, jayd-n33, and ajerickson21. Lollipops for all of you!

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry Potter still isn't mine.]

'_Draco…'_

It had been so long since she'd last seen him. Out of all of her friends, Draco had been the far most attentive and perceptive. Not only was he experienced as a spy, but he'd spent his life being hurt by his family. When she had begun to show the signs of weakness, Draco had been the first to notice. Brushing it off as illness and clumsiness, she knew she had to stop seeing him before he figured anything else out.

Coming up with excuses to cancel their plans had been easier than she had expected. He hadn't been the least bit suspicious when she said she was busy at work; everyone knew how busy Hermione had always loved to be. Then, slowly, it seemed as though he grew to be busier as well and he had stopped calling. While it had been sad, she knew it was for the best and she had tried not to dwell on it.

Now here he was, somehow, standing with her. His face was the perfect mask of indifference as he looked down upon her, yet his eyes were shining with concern. How had he known she was here? And why did he still seem so concerned when she had blown him off for so long? She didn't deserve that look in his eyes. She didn't deserve his friendship. She deserved all that she had gotten, and she knew it.

Draco watched as the emotions flew across her face with a hint of amusement. Someone really ought to teach this girl how to better mask what she was feeling. However, all amusement left his mind the second he saw the resigned and depressed look settle across her delicate features. He knew that look. He knew it well. His mother had worn it gracefully for his entire childhood. It was the look of a victim who suffered more than just a physical attack, but a mental and emotional attack as well. What was going on here?

"Hermione, can you speak?" His voice was gentle and patient, almost as though he was telling her she could speak and that he would wait until she was ready. When she blinked to clear the tears and opened her mouth, he allowed a small smile to slip through his mask. Encouragement was important in a time like this.

"Yes." Her voice was fragile and shy, entirely unlike what he knew from before. This just wouldn't do. The feel of her cheek moving under his hand while she spoke had registered within his mind that he still had not removed his hand from her face. Gently moving his thumb across her cheek, he began to soothe her before he began his next course of action.

"You know what I am going to do now, right? As your friend, I must know. I cannot believe Scarhead or the Weasel haven't done it yet – or insisted upon having it done since neither of them have the talent. I apologize for the intrusion and hope you understand my reasoning. _Leglimens._"

Before she had time to prepare herself, he was inside her mind. She fought with all that she could, but it was no use. Tears streaked down her face as she thought of the way he would think of her once he realized how weak and pathetic she was. How utterly useless and pointless her existence had become. As her thoughts turned more and more depressed, she was suddenly aware that he was soothing her from within her mind.

Draco had never been so lost within a mind before. He had always imagined Hermione's mind to be sorted into perfectly organized compartments, yet the second he stepped inside he was caught within a tornado of her emotions and despondent thoughts. Gathering his energy, he reached for the swirling depression and began to sort through it. Weak, pathetic, useless, pointless – he combated all of these thoughts with images of her fighting in the war, organizing the students, and helping to lead him through his depression.

'_You are none of those things, Hermione Granger.' _His voice rang strong and true within her mind and she found herself calming down. She had almost forgotten who she used to be.

'_Focus on my hand.'_ She complied immediately. Not only was following orders instinct, but it was easy to focus on the warm touch he was providing. How long had it been since someone had been this gentle with her? Even Harry hardly touched her anymore. He had noticed how jealous Ron was and simply took it as harmless, choosing to be less affectionate with her.

He noticed the second she had calmed down enough – her memories began floating in front of him slowly. Many memories of the past, her wedding, her honeymoon, times spent with Harry, nights out with Luna and Ginny… It didn't make sense. All of these memories were short, floaty, and happy. He pushed a bit further, searching for what she was hiding. With a bit of pressing, he found a door and instantly her mind began trying to keep him away from it.

'_Impressive, you've mastered a small bit of Occlumency. Let me in, let me help you.'_ He was insistent. She would be safe again, he would make sure of it. With one last push, he was through the door. He barely heard her gasp as he was instantly surrounded by her hidden memories. His fury was barely containable; this was impossible.

She was a beautiful bride, smiling happily up at the Weasel. They were alone in their house and it was their wedding night. She shyly began to undress and Draco watched the Weasel's eyes gain a hardened look. The second her dress hit the ground, he pushed her backwards on the bed. She was instantly afraid and began asking him to slow down, but he refused, continuing his assault. As the tears began to flow, Draco knew where this memory was heading. This was how she had lost her virginity – she'd tried to offer it and instead had it stolen. Before seeing the end of the memory, he swept into another.

She was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. The Weasel arrived home from work and appeared to be furious that dinner wasn't prepared for him already. With a strangled cry, his fist connected with her face, knocking her backwards against the wall. Draco watched as the Weasel looked around, noticed that she'd been using her wand to light the stove to cook, and then he grabbed her. Tossing the food aside, he pressed her hand upon the hot stove. Her scream pierced Draco's heart as he quickly sped to another memory.

Hermione and the Weasel were out to eat with Scarhead and the She-Weasel. When they parted to go their separate ways, Harry gave Hermione a tight hug. As the memory switched to Hermione's home, Draco watched as she was mercilessly beaten for hugging her best friend. The way Ron spoke to her made Draco's fists clench – no one had the right to say those things to her.

He skimmed through the rest of the memories, having no desire to see the rest of them in any greater detail. Endless accounts of his fist, his belt, his knee, his foot, any object nearby, and even one awful memory involving a knife. It seemed as though the Weasel never used his wand upon her, for which Draco wasn't sure if he was grateful or concerned. The worst memories were the sexual ones, where her face looked so distraught and broken that it shook him to the core. This was the life she led?

Before leaving her mind, he quickly skimmed for the incident that had landed her here in this bed specifically. He'd need it for evidence later if he decided to go to the authorities. The image of her standing nervously next to such an amazing dinner was adorable, until the Weasel came storming in. With one swift punch to her stomach, she was on the floor. Only a few more select kicks and she was unconscious. It was definitely one of the less severe memories, in contrast to what he'd seen. Most of the damage must have been done after she was unconscious, the filthy bastard.

As he pulled out of her mind, he became aware of how much she was shaking. Focusing his eyes on her, he frowned slightly at the immense amount of distress she was in. She was shaking violently as her body wracked with sobs. He went to remove his hand from her cheek and paused mid-air when her eyes opened and focused on his. She opened her mouth to try to speak, but was caught with a coughing and hiccupping fit that seemed to be impossibly painful with her injuries.

"S-sorr-y…" Her voice was faint and raspy, but she got the whole word out. Immediately he realized his mistake in withdrawing his hand. In her state of mind, she thought he was blaming her for everything he'd seen. Giving her space had been a gesture of kindness in his mind, and a motion of disgust and disapproval in hers. He slowly reached back down, giving her time to register that he was going to touch her again.

His left hand cupped her cheek once more, and then slowly his right hand cupped her other cheek. Leaning down towards her until he was about a foot from her face, he locked his gaze intently upon hers. The message he was about to convey was crucial and he must make sure she understood.

"None of it, any of it, was your fault." Simple, to the point, and from the ways her eyes widened – at least slightly effective. He had to work slowly, step by step. She had helped him through some of the worst times he had had, now it was time to return the favor. Conjuring an armchair next to her bed, he slowly settled himself in it and took her hand reassuringly.

"I'm staying right here. Sleep."

After she'd drifted into a sound sleep, he allowed himself to begin to doze as well. Happy, happy dreams of mangling a certain Ronald Weasley.


End file.
